by B. B. Hamel
“I know,” I say. I’ve heard this story a million times before. Hell, I remember doing most of this. I didn’t get a normal childhood when I was a kid, for obvious reasons, and I just wanted something normal in my life. I thought I could trade something abnormal, like one of the royal horses, for something a little kid would actually like.
“You’re lucky the guards finally found you,” she says, smiling at me.
“Or else I would have ended up kidnapped and held for ransom,” I recite from memory.
“That’s right.” She sighs and smiles at me. “What’s this girl like?”
“Her name is Mila,” I say. “She’s smart, beautiful, and poised. She’ll fit in great at court.”
“And this is for real?” she asks.
I hate lying to my family. I really, really hate it. But I know that if I tell them the truth, they’ll never let me bring Mila.
“It will be,” I say, which isn’t entirely a lie at least.
“Fine,” Mom says, sighing. “I trust you, Branimir. But please, just be careful. Things here aren’t great.”
“Is it really that bad?” I ask her.
She nods slowly. “I hate to admit it, but they really are. Your father is worried sick.”
“He sounded worried. I can’t believe people are buying into Blaz Perko.” I make a face, totally disgusted even saying his name.
“Neither can we, but it’ll help a lot when you come home.” She smiles and perks up a bit. “I’ll be happy to see you.”
“Same, Mom. I should get going. Send Dad my love.”
“Of course.” She waves and the Skype call ends. I shut my laptop lid and lean back in my chair, staring out my office window.
Mila is just outside, presumably doing her job. It wasn’t awkward at all this morning, though I could tell she had something in her mind. And she damn well should have it on her mind. I made a pretty crazy but amazing offer to her last night, and I think she’d be nuts if she passed it up.
But it’s hard for her to understand what she’d be getting into. She has no clue what it means to be part of a royal family, let alone a commoner and a foreigner thrown into the mix. It’ll be difficult, but I’m completely positive that she can handle it, if only she decides to do it.
And I can’t believe how badly I want her to accept. I know I could walk outside right now and find probably a hundred different women that would gladly pretend to be my fiancée if only to live the royal lifestyle for a little while. But the fact that Mila is resisting it makes me want her even more and makes her that much more fascinating to me.
I’ve had plenty of women in my life. I’ve had models, actresses, singers, you name it, I’ve taken her. I had to admit, I’m slowly growing weary of the same old pretty face waking up next to me in the morning, even if it’s a new woman every time. Mila isn’t like those girls, she’s from a totally different background and actually wants to make something of herself. Mila is beautiful, fucking gorgeous, in fact, but she doesn’t seem to really realize it. She’s so understated and poised, I just can’t fucking resist her.
All because of that conversation with my father, and she happened to walk in at the right moment. The way the morning sunlight hit her hair just seemed to suddenly unlock her for me, make her suddenly appear in a way that she hadn’t before. I’m noticing her now, and I don’t want to stop.
I go about my day, doing the work that needs to get done, though I know I could delegate a lot of it. When I’m gone, I have perfectly capable people working underneath me that can handle all of this stuff, and if there are any decisions big enough that I need to be involved, they’ll call or email. I know going away won’t affect the company, but I do feel a little bittersweet about it.
Five o’clock rolls around and I hear a soft knock at my door. “Come in,” I call out.
Mila enters, looking a little timid. “Can we talk?” she asks.
My heart almost skips a beat. This is the moment I’ve been fucking waiting for all day. “Of course.”
She steps into my office and shuts the door behind her. She walks up to my desk but she doesn’t sit down, which makes me smile. What a fucking power move, and she probably doesn’t even realize she’s doing it.
“About your offer,” she says.
I smile slightly at her. “Are you here to accept?”
She hesitates then sighs. “Yes, but with conditions.”
My heart leaps and I can’t help but grin my face off. “I knew you couldn’t resist,” I say. “Is it for the job or is it for me?”
She makes a face. “I said with conditions, Bran. Do you want to hear them?”
“Sure,” I say, unable to contain myself. “Go ahead.”
“First, I’m not going to marry you. We’ll get engaged and all that, but no actual marriage. Okay?”
“Fair enough,” I say. “I couldn’t ask any more from you.”
“Good.” She nods to herself, like she’s trying to psych herself up. “Second, this is a business trip. We’re going to keep our relationship professional, at least when we’re not in front of the cameras.”
“Okay,” I say, grinning. That only makes me more excited. “But in front of the cameras, I’m allowed to feel you up.”
She makes another face. “Kissing, maybe. But no, you can’t feel me up.”
“You’re really going to deprive yourself of that?” I ask her. “Isn’t it every woman’s dream to be felt up in front of the paparazzi?”
“No,” she says flatly. “No, it isn’t at all.”
“Huh,” I say, pretending to be surprised. “I guess I don’t know women.”
She sighs, shaking her head. “Do you accept that condition?”
I nod, smirking again. “Yes, I accept.”
“Okay, and one last one. It’s related to that one.” She hesitates and a blush grows across her cheeks. “Absolutely, definitely, no sex. Okay? No sex.”
I stare at her for a second before bursting out in laughter. She blushes even deeper and crosses her arms, clearly annoyed at my reaction.
She’s so fucking cute, coming in here with that. Clearly she’s been thinking about me fucking her ever since our little date last night, and she’s realizing that she can’t resist it. I think she’s just making this condition so that I won’t come on to her.
But god damn, is she wrong. This is just going to make things so much worse. Now I won’t be able to stop thinking about having what I’m not supposed to have. She wants to make herself forbidden.
“Okay,” I say, composing myself. “No sex.”
“All business,” she says.
“All business,” I repeat, grinning. I stand up and extend my hand. “Do we have a deal, Princess?”
She hesitates before shaking. “We have a deal.”
“Good.” I hold her hand for a second longer than I need to, looking into her eyes, before releasing. “When we’re done, you can have any job you want. But until then, you’re all mine.”
“When do we start?” she asks me.
I reach into the top drawer of my desk and I pick up the box that’s been sitting there since this morning. I walk around the desk and face her before dropping down to one knee.
“We start right now,” I say. I open the box to show her the million-dollar ring I bought her.
She gasps when she sees it. “Holy shit.”
“Mila Lambert, will you pretend to be my fiancée?”
“Yes,” she says, gasping. “Yes, oh yes. A million times yes.”
We laugh together as I slide the expensive and beautiful diamond ring onto her finger. She holds it up and looks as it as I stand.
“This is outrageous,” she says.
“I know. But it’s fitting. You’re a Princess.”
“Fake future Princess,” she corrects me. “I won’t ever be a real Princess.”
“No,” I say, “But we can pretend.”
She hesitates, standing close to me, and I feel that fucking electricity arcing throu
gh the air. She looks at me and I know what she’s thinking. She wants to seal this deal with a kiss, and maybe let me slide my thick fat cock deep between her fucking legs. I can see it all flash through her mind, but quickly she gets herself together and turns away.
I look at her ass, and I know I made the right choice.
“We’re leaving tonight,” I say to her.
“Tonight?” she asks, biting her lip. “I’m not even packed.
“Go home, pack what you can. Whatever you’re missing, we’ll get you in Bellestan.”
“I haven’t even told my parents,” she says softly.
“Don’t worry about that. I’ll pick you up at nine.”
“Okay,” she says, sighing. “I better hurry home.”
“Good. Hurry up.” I grin at her as she reaches the door. “For the next month, you’re going to be all mine.”
She gives me one last look before leaving, and I know what that look means.
She can’t fucking wait.
4
Mila
I’ve never been on a private plane before, but it’s immediately obvious why people take them.
It’s way freaking better than flying on a normal plane.
Bran grins at me as I lean back in my seat. “There’s so much room!” I say.
He laughs and shrugs. “Being rich and royal has its perks.”
“Yeah, like this freaking plane.” I look around and laugh. “There’s even a couch.”
“And a television and lots of movies. And I think they added WiFi recently.” He leans toward me. “It’s a long flight. What do you want to do?”
I can hear the suggestion in his tone. “Not what you’re thinking,” I say.
“Sorry, you’re right. The mile-high club is strictly off limits for us, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it absolutely is.”
He grins and puts his headphones on. “Guess I’ll get some work done.” He flips open his laptop and turns away from me.
I sigh and glance out the window. The city is receding behind us as we jet away from it, flying over toward Bellestan. We’re making a stop in Germany to refuel before finishing the flight, though fortunately we don’t even have to get off the plane for that. It’s a long trip, but we’re flying in luxury.
The plane comes with a full crew, which is pretty incredible. There’s a woman that’ll bring me whatever I want, as long as it’s on the plane, just sitting at the back of the cabin. The seat I’m in fully reclines into a bed, and I definitely plan on making use of that feature pretty soon.
For now though, I can’t stop staring at the ring on my finger. I always dreamed about getting engaged, although I never thought I’d have a million-dollar diamond ring. I almost don’t want to wear it, since I’m so afraid of losing it. But Bran insisted, and I know he’s right. If I’m going to pretend to be a Princess and his fiancée, people will expect a beautiful and over-the-top ring.
It just doesn’t feel real. All of this is happening so fast. I don’t know why I accepted this, and his question back in his office keeps ringing in my ears.
Did I accept for the job or for Prince Billionaire? I keep telling myself that it’s strictly business, that it’s all for this job. I want to get ahead in my life and better myself, and I know this is a good way of doing that. It’s probably a good idea to do a favor for Prince Billionaire, especially considering he can make all my dreams come true with ease.
Still, I keep questioning myself. I couldn’t stop thinking about what it would feel like to let him touch me, kiss me, and I guess I’ll find that out soon. We’re going to be pretending to be engaged, so we’ll have to kiss and hold hands and act like any other newly engaged couple. Even if it’s all an act, it’ll still be happening, it’ll still be real. I just can’t stop thinking about that, and about the other stuff.
The stuff that comes after you go home, after the kissing and the holding hands. I keep picturing his strong hands slowly undressing me, his fingers on my skin, his lips against mine. I keep seeing his thick, hard cock between my legs as he fucks me slow and deep, his eyes locked on mine, the pleasure rocking through me, making me moan, making me scream…
I can’t keep thinking about that, though. I take a deep breath and slip a book from my backpack. Bran is busy doing whatever he’s doing on his laptop, and so I’m going to try and get through this flight with the minimum of awkward staring.
I don’t know why I’m doing this, and I guess it doesn’t matter. I set my conditions, so I won’t have to worry about him trying to sleep with me. I know I won’t be able to resist him for long, so these conditions should help that a lot. Sooner or later, I’d give myself to Prince Billionaire, but hopefully now I won’t have to make that choice.
Hopefully he won’t give me exactly what I really want.
I read for a while, and eventually I fall asleep. When I finally wake up, it’s morning, and Bran is drinking some coffee. He greets me and the attendant brings me over some coffee and offers me some breakfast.
The first half of the flight is a breeze. Bran and I talk some more over breakfast and we even watch some cheesy romantic comedy together. He doesn’t put his headphones back in, and we spend the day together flying through the air like nothing weird is happening.
Finally, we land in Germany, the plane refuels, and we’re back in the sky. As soon as we’re leveled off and cruising, Bran turns to me.
“Are you ready?” he asks me.
“I don’t know,” I admit. “When do we land?”
“Three hours,” he says. “Not long at all.”
I bite my lip. “Will there be press waiting for us?”
“Yes,” he says. “We won’t stop to chat or anything, though. We’ll head right for the castle.”
I laugh a little. “Right. The castle, where you live.”
“Exactly.” He grins at me. “You’re going to do fine.”
“Aren’t there, like, things I need to know?”
“Like what?” he asks.
“I don’t know. Royal protocol stuff.”
“Yes,” he says. “But we’ll teach you once we’re there.”
“I don’t want to offend anyone,” I say. “Especially not your parents.”
He laughs and shakes his head. “You won’t offend them, trust me. They think all that stuff is crap, and we only do it for the cameras. No, just be polite and yourself, you’ll do fine.”
“Okay.” I take a deep breath and let it out. “What else should I know?”
He thinks about that for a second. “Well, okay. There’s a man named Blaz Perko, he’s a minister in the government. He’s the leader of the opposition party, the one that wants to overthrow my parents.”
“So he’s the bad guy?” I ask.
He laughs and nods. “Exactly. And Blaz really is a bad guy. He wants to replace the monarchy with an oligarchy built up of business leaders. He’d suck Bellestan dry of all its resources just to make the rich that much richer.”
“Sounds pretty awful,” I say.
“Believe me. For all the faults of a monarchy, Blaz Perko’s vision is much, much worse.”
“Okay then. So he’s the enemy.”
“Right. Your job is to smile, look beautiful, and tell everyone that we’re going to have a baby as soon as we’re married.”
I must turn totally white, because he laughs at my expression.
“Don’t worry,” he says. “We’re not actually going to get married, you know.”
“Still,” I say. “I need to actually… say that?”
“Yes,” he says. “Just think about what you’d have to do to get pregnant, and you’ll do fine.”
I blush a little bit. “I don’t think so,” I say.
“You’re right. Picturing me fucking your little pussy deep and rough and coming inside of you probably would be a bad distraction.”
I bite my lip and look away. “You’re not supposed to do that,” I say.
“I’m so very sorry.” He grins at me
and doesn’t sound sorry at all.
I sigh and look back at him. “This is going to work, right? Nobody is going to dig too deep?”
“It’ll work,” he says, nodding confidently. “I’ve already created a paper trail for us. We’ve been dating for a year, went on vacation to Spain together, and got engaged just yesterday, so that’ll be easy to remember.”
“Got it. One year, vacation to Spain.” I sigh and look out the window. “This is crazy.”
“I know,” he says. “It’s politics. It’s always crazy.” He laughs and leans back in his chair as I look over at him.
“How can you be so confident?” I ask.
“I have faith in you, Mila. I chose you for a reason.”
“You don’t know me all that well,” I point out.
“True. But you’ve been a good secretary. How hard can this be?”
I sigh and shake my head. That’s a great question, but the fact that he’s asking it at all scares the shit out of me. I realize that he probably doesn’t know exactly what he’s doing, and I’m going to really need to step it up here.
Still, his confidence is attractive and contagious, and I feel a little bit better. So when three hours pass in the blink of an eye and the plane slowly descends toward Bellestan, I almost feel like I’m ready for what’s about to happen.
5
Bran
The paparazzi are fucking brutal.
I didn’t expect it. Maybe it was naïve to think that we’d land and they’d be at least somewhat respectful. I figured I was the prodigal Bellestanian royal son, returning to his homeland with his future wife on his arm, ready to repopulate the fucking royal family and restore honor to the throne.
Instead, all they wanted to do was get pictures of Mila. For her part, she was fucking fantastic. She smiled and waved and remained composed in the face of a fucking onslaught of cameras. The paparazzi were pushy and jostled to get pictures, almost to the point of a riot. The royal guards kept them at bay, but they were relentless. All the way from the airport until we made it to the castle grounds, they hounded us, yelled at us, aggressively pushed for pictures.